


to love something that the stars now own

by punkrockdog



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, allusions to sex, also! lesbian!chris/ginnychris RIGHTS, it's all very now that we have our dead what are we going to do with them, mentions of suicide/allusion to suicide, this is literally just the aftermath of neil's death and what it does to todd.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:07:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockdog/pseuds/punkrockdog
Summary: a brief study on grief and what it means to move on. or rather, what it means to stay alive.





	to love something that the stars now own

After Neil leaves (he never says _ dies, _not even in his own head), Todd feels utterly lost. He now walks through the halls of Welton as if he’s off balance, stumbling around and bumping into people and tripping over his own feet. He figures he’s been thrown off kilter, so he keeps waiting for something to come and center him again, but he knows it won’t. What he’s waiting for has gone, and he took everything with him.

He can’t find anything to keep his mind occupied. He stares at his notebook every night, wishing and wishing to put words on paper. Maybe if he could open the floodgates, he’d stop feeling as though he’s overflowing. He’d been worried that he wouldn’t be able to feel anything, but of course not. He feels too much sometimes, too big and too loud and too much. 

So no, it’s not that there aren’t feelings to put onto paper, it’s that there’s too many, and none of them make sense, and some of them, some of them Todd can’t bear to write down. It’s like letting a secret out into the world. He fears it will be followed with explosions, that the cut he had so carefully sewn back together after _ it _ happened will be ripped wide open. Of course, then, he’s surprised when he scribbles it out at 3:17 a.m. on the morning of his Chemistry final, the world doesn’t end, and everything sits still and quiet in the walls of Welton.

It’s fitting, he thinks, because when has Todd ever done something that matters? How silly of him was it to think that writing out three, simple words onto a clean sheet of paper would change anything.

(Even if those words were about the most explosive, influential boy he knew, even if it was because of him that Todd would ever allow himself to think that words could make some sort of difference.)

~~

Charlie suggests moving on, because he’s _ Charlie, _ and Todd is is pretty sure that he’s convinced that Neil’s alive somewhere. Todd still confides in him, and sometimes when Charlie is able to slip him a few drinks, Todd will really talk about Neil. Neil and his hands, Neil and his mouth, Neil and his pretty face and pretty words and pretty, pretty sounds. Admitting these things so openly, and to Charlie of all people, should make Todd blush, or make his veins burn with shame.

But lately, he had slurred to his equally intoxicated friend, he hasn’t been able to feel much of that, the cringing embarrassment that used to come so easily to him. There isn’t much room for it anymore, and there’s not much reason for it anymore. Charlie only blinked at him for a long, slow, second, before his mouth cracked into a smug grin. He tapped his glass against Todd’s.

“I’ll drink to that.”

“To _ what?” _ Todd remembers giggling and oh _ god, _ did it feel nice to laugh.

“Todd Anderson, not embarrassed? It’s a goddamn miracle!”

They fell over each other with laughter after that, and Charlie had whispered in his ear about this place, a bar, where men went with men and girls with girls and everybody was happy, and the thought made Todd dizzy with glee.

When he woke up the next morning and headed back to Welton, a piece of paper had been slipped into the pocket of his coat, an address scratched in blue ink pen. Todd smiled, because it felt good to have a secret again. 

He thinks that maybe the men buying him drinks and waving off the fact he didn’t have an ID and whispering in his ear should’ve made him nervous, or scared, but they just made him laugh. Because god, they were stupid. Stupid on the safety of this place, stupid on gin and whiskey and how Todd’s face looked innocent enough to be smirked at like _ that, _ stupid in the way that they’d get angry when Todd would decline the fancy drink and offer of a good time in a stranger’s home.

He knows this isn’t moving on, not really, not in the way he keeps shifting on the bar stool to say something to Neil before remembering. But he keeps going there, even after it gets raided and shut down. He’ll ride his bike past it on the way to Knox’s house, or stand in front of the empty building and speak poetry to the night sky in a fashion that reminds him of a smiling boy sitting on a radiator and reciting Shakespeare to a sleepy Todd and the morning sun.

Todd begins to think there’s no real moving on, not from something like this, so he stops trying. He lets feelings wash over him, and sometimes doesn’t sleep for days at a time, but he’s alive.

Meeks argues he’s not really living, but he’s stopped asking God to let him trade places with Neil, so he must be getting _ somewhere. _

_ ~~ _

Todd is still floating, drifting, brushing past things but not taking them in. His eyes are glassy and his stutter has smoothed out into a monotone of pure boredom. He stumbles blindly through the days, no longer interested in keeping up with his brother's legacy. His grades have slipped, his parents are disappointed, his teachers are worried, but Todd just doesn't _ care. _ His room feels empty when he tries to study and he can't really keep his eyes focused on the words, anyhow. He has to thank Neil, in some twisted, sick way, for taking off the pressure of his parents' expectations. He hears his mother speaking to a neighbor, and she whispers,

"I know he's not doing his best, but at least he won't end up like that Perry boy."

Something angry had twisted in his gut then, a white rage shooting hot through his veins. He stomped up the stairs to his room and collapsed onto his bed, buried his head in his pillow to keep from screaming. (The memory is still ugly and foul in his head, and he knows it'll never quite go away.) How could somebody talk about Neil like that? Neil was everything Todd would never be, could never be without him. Perhaps Neil had left an ounce of his own courage within Todd because later that night he had sat down at the dinner table, put his napkin in his lap, and quietly said, 

"Mother, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't use my friend's death as an example of failure."

His mother had just stared at him, mouth open and eyes blinking rapidly. Of course, his father had gotten angry, but Todd simply sat there while his dad yelled, scared that everything would come spilling out if he stood up to defend himself. 

"You know that Perry boy was a fairy, right? A _ queer? _" His father had spit. Todd snapped his head up in shock.

"W-What? How do you-"

"His father found a whole stack of poems under his bed, love poems, about a boy."

Todd was speechless then. He looked up at the ceiling, tears stinging his eyes. He should've known something like this would've happened. They'd both been careless, both been stupid, but Todd supposes that's what they get for loving each other. He just hates it, because now Neil won't be remembered as the suffering artist who died for his craft, but as the perverted boy who was in love with a forever unnamed face. But _ Todd _ knows, and if those poems ever get out, the rest of the Society and Mr. Keating, will know, too. 

He blew a breath up at the chipped paint.

He really should have seen this coming. 

~~ 

He hasn't been sleeping.

It's not like he slept very well before, but this is different.

He lays awake at night, eyes blank and staring at the empty bed not five feet away from him. 

Sometimes Todd will drift off, but he finds it hard to fall asleep without the warmth that used to press at his back. Long before they had even kissed, Neil found Todd crying quietly one night and had quickly wrapped himself around the other boy, murmuring promises of early rising as to not draw suspicion. Todd had been scared and laid deathly still before finding out that Neil hummed in his sleep. He was lulled to sleep by a choppy rendition of "Musetta's Waltz".

It became a nightly occurrence after that. Neil would climb into Todd's bed, or sometimes Todd into Neil's, and they would tangle themselves together to fit onto the mattress and fall asleep, breath even and hearts beating in synchronization.

(Some nights were sleepless, in good ways, where they both lay in the flitting moonlight, sticky and sweaty and dazed, hands sore and limbs relieved from being untwisted and unbent. They would share kisses and cigarettes, falling asleep against each other as the moon bathed their small room in light.)

When Todd does sleep, he is relieved to find Neil in his dreams, alive and whole and moving under his hands, warm around his body. His mind plays him Society meetings, but here he is reading, laughing when he stumbles, or not stumbling at all. Here he watches Neil more fervently, letting himself trace Neil's shoulder blades dancing under his sweater. Pitts doesn't hit his head, and the radio he and Meeks were working on _ works, _ and even in his dreams Knox is drunk on first love but now Todd knows that he is too.

His room is cold, and he guesses it's always been like this, but now it's unbearable. Neil was like a goddamn furnace, and though Todd complained, he would press his cold feet against Neil's and find comfort in even suffocating heat. 

He pulls his blanket around him and slides his eyes shut. Sleep won't come tonight, but he can at least try. 

~~

Todd writes a poem the day after he gets a letter from Mr. Keating. The letter is short-

_ todd anderson, _

_ i hope you're well, or as well as you can be. _

_ i've been teaching again, but none of my students _

_ are like the boys at welton. tell the others i said _

_ hello. _

_ \- o' captain, my captain _

-but it's enough. Todd pins it on the wall above his desk and pulls out his notebook. He writes and crosses out and erases until the words hold some meaning. He seals it and sneaks it into the outgoing mail downstairs in the morning. When he whispers over to Knox in Chem, they smile wickedly at each other before the teacher scolds them. The day after, he walks a little lighter, eats a bit more, and actually laughs when Gerard slips during soccer.

He recites the poem to Neil's empty bed that night, having read over the words enough times to memorize them. 

_ there are things that i _

_ will never get to tell you, _

_ things that i kept near my heart so that _

_ the only way to get to them was to dig and _

_ dig and dig and bloody us both in the process. _

_ i learned to love too late, or maybe _

_ too early because now i am full of so much _

_ and i have nowhere to put it and i am starting to think _

_ that this is what icarus felt like when his _

_ wings started to melt. _

It's not good. It’s not nearly his best work, but he figures its halfway to London already, so he simply lets the words soak into the quiet room. 

He's invited to Chris's house for dinner, along with the others, sans Cameron, who had understood that he was no longer welcome into their little group. He accepts, and is relieved at the small party around the table. Dinner goes smoothly, people say things at the right times and laugh when appropriate. It's fine, it's normal, it's a bit boring but it's nice, Todd supposes. It’s not awkward at all, even though Knox and Chris had broken up not even a week after Neil had passed. Everybody goes into the den, but Chris catches Todd's arms and keeps him in the kitchen.

"How are you, Todd?" she asks, and Todd could cry right there.

"Terrible. Miserable. And you?" he says breezily. Chris laughs, a pretty and feather-light sound.

"Knox was telling me about- about you and Neil," she starts cautiously, and Todd freezes, but let's her go on, "I just wanted to say… me too. That’s why I broke up with Knox. I- Me and Ginny, we’re… we’re like you and Neil were.”

Todd looks Chris in the eye, and realizes she’s more scared than he’s ever seen her. He softens.

“What I’m trying to say, Todd, is that you don’t have to do this alone. We all love you. I love you. More than you know.”

"Thank you, Chris. Thank you so much," Todd says. His throat feels tight, and his eyes burn something terrible.

She gives him a watery smile and pulls him in for a hug. He can see why Knox loves her so much. She's incredibly warm and caring, and Todd’s reminded of Neil but it just makes him hug Chris tighter. They go and join the others, and the rest of the night goes just as well as dinner, but this time Todd lets himself laugh and smile with his friends. His chest feels a hundred pounds lighter. Chris gives Todd a knowing little smile before he leaves, and Todd is achingly grateful to have found a friend in her. 

~~

Todd is getting better, bit by bit. The rest of his friends take his hasty confession of him and Neil better than he expected, than he deserves. He pulls his grades up, starts to study more, is able to focus in class again. He sleeps more nights than not. Everything is still painfully difficult, and it's always a struggle to get out of bed, but he shrugs and smiles to Neil's side of the room. He's not really happy. He probably never will be again, but he's fine with that. 

One night he dreams of a future that could've been.

(Leave it to Neil to ruin everything when it's just getting better. He's still stirring up Todd's life, even six-feet under.)

Todd and Neil live together. Their shared house is stuffed full of art, of posters, of stolen books and records. A fire burns in a brick fireplace, and they sit on the floor drinking wine. Neil is sparkling in the candlelight, and when Todd leans over and kisses him, no one says anything at all. Chris and Ginny have a little boy, David, and he runs around the living room, laughing and bubbling. Knox is playing tag with him, and losing miserably. Pitts and Meeks sit together on the couch, Charlie joining Todd and Neil on the floor, and Knox, Ginny, and Chris smush together on a loveseat. Smiles and laughter comes easy to Todd, as they do to Neil. When he reaches to take Todd's hands, there's no hesitation in any of it at all. 

Later, when everyone has left, Neil and Todd lay naked in their bed, bodies pressed together. Neil leaves lazy kisses on Todd's neck, tracing his pulse with the tip of his tongue so he'll shiver. He whispers into the soft skin about giving Todd a ring. Todd's heart stops for a minute until Neil pushes himself up to give him a messy kiss, and Todd tells him that they'll have to start saving money if they want to splurge on something like a ring. Neil giggles into Todd's mouth. He lays his head back on his chest and whispers a sleepy_ I love you _ before drifting off. Todd smiles to himself and kisses the top of Neil's head, falling asleep himself.

When Todd wakes, for real, his breath is threatening to choke him. His body burns with anger and sadness and guilt, and he's so goddamn overwhelmed he feels like he's drowning. In the midst of it he reaches for Neil, says his name desperately into the half deserted room. When nothing happens, he wishes violently that his throat would close after all. He sobs himself back into a fitful sleep.

When he wakes up a second time, he begs Pitts to tell Mr. Nolan that he's fallen ill. He thinks it might be the last strangled please he whispers that makes his friend trudge up to their headmaster's office. He hugs Pitts tightly and slips back into his room. 

"You owe me!" Pitts says to the door.

"Of course," Todd says back, though deep down he figures he won't ever be able to repay him.

He pads to the bathroom quietly during lunch and pulls out Charlie's old straight razor. He'd hid it for whatever reason, saying that the school didn't want the boys shaving, but Todd thinks he just liked having secrets. He tiptoes back to his room, opens the door, and sits himself on the window sill. Cold air rushes in through the broken frame, and Todd shivers. He wonders how Neil enjoyed sitting here every morning, recalling the story of four lovers quietly to the birds outside. 

What Todd would give to have a million more of those mornings.

He flips open the razor and studies it for a moment. Todd considers himself to be a coward. He thinks himself to be small, and weak, and not capable of cutting open his own wrists. He flips the razor closed and hugs his knees. His eyes find Mr. Keating’s letter, pinned on the wall above his desk. He realizes that if he can’t live for himself, or for Neil, then he has to live for a teacher across the ocean who knew what was inside of him even before he did. He has to live for his friends, his loud, crazy, amazing, wonderful friends. 

He decides that if he has to live for anything, he’ll live for the way Chris looks at Ginny like she’s the only person in the world. 

He’ll live for all of the love he can’t give to Neil anymore, that he finds in a thousand other places. 

**Author's Note:**

> another reupload/edit of an old anderperry work! this used to be songfic for thomas sander's "the things we used to share". as always, leave comments and kudos to let me know what you think! follow me on twitter @nochildrenmp3 or on tumblr @bloodyknucklez!


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